What Walks in the Woods Tonight?
by The-Suburban-Guy
Summary: Sam and Dean end up with a case in Pennsylvania courtesy of a chatty local who thinks there is a wendigo in the woods. Dean just wanted to go to a car show.
1. It was supposed to be a Car Show

**Chapter 1: It was supposed to be a Car Show**

"So, remind me again why we're in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania…" Sam grumbled, shading his eyes from the summer light as he stepped out of the Impala.

"Baby, as perfect as she may be, is a bit of a classic and she could always use a few backup parts. I got a lead that the car show this weekend in the next town over has a guy with some of the stuff I'm looking for." Dean affectionately patted the hood as he closed the door.

Sam rolled his eyes, then glanced up at the sign in front of the small restaurant Dean had parked in front of. "Coventry Parlor", it was a two story white building with a few large windows flanked by burgundy shutters. The restaurant, like the rest of the surrounding town, was as unremarkable as could be.

Dean locked the car, then led the way in. The front door jingled as a string of bells shook to alert the waitress behind the ice cream counter that they had arrived. The front part of the restaurant appeared to be a 1950s style soda counter, with a room behind it for sit-down dining. Dean motioned to the waitress for two menus, then sat down in a chair by one of the windows in the back room.

"What do you think I should get?" He paused, scrunching up his brow, "Do you know what the hell scrapple is? They've got a scrapple omelette."

"It's everything left over from the pig after they butcher it ground up in a paste, then put in a block." Sam replied, looking at the list of breakfast options.

"Hmm…I'll still try it."

The bell rang again as another customer came into the store. It was a taller man with short brown hair and glasses. He was wearing khakis and a sweater vest over an awful plaid shirt. He looked nervous.

"Nancy, I need to talk to you." He leaned over the counter toward the waitress.

"Mike, I don't want to hear any more of your conspiracy theory crap. I don't care if you want me to cancel my party at the lodge because of some monster. I paid the township, I'm having a party!"

"Nancy!" He whispered, "You don't understand there is something in those woods. Something not human. If you guys go out there something bad is going to happen. I know it!"

"Mike, either buy something or leave. I've known you for a while and I know you're a good guy, but you need to lay off the sci-fi movies."

He sighed. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Mike walked towards the back room and sat at a window seat a few tables behind Sam and Dean.

"Dean, did you hear what that guy said? There might be something worth checking out in those woods."

"Or the guy watched one too many episodes of 'Chasing Bigfoot' and now thinks he's seeing something when it's just an oversized raccoon." Dean frowned, irritated at the possibility of missing his car show.

"I'm going over to talk to him." Sam stood up and walked over to Mike's table. Dean sighed and followed closely behind. Mike was reading the menu when he looked up.

"Uh, hi. Can I help you?"

"Agents Wilson and Love, State Parks Department. We heard what you said about the thing in the woods. What did you see?" Sam asked, he and Dean flipping out badges.

Mike looked at the badges for a minute before scoffing. "I've seen a bad fake ID before, but come on. What did you guys do, go to Staples and forget to change the names? That one says 'Linda Burkett', and the other one says 'Jamaal Washington'. Plus we're in Pennsylvania, not Maryland."

"Alright, so we're not with the State, we still are interested."

"Look, if you guys are just going to mock me and put some rant on Facebook, forget it. I've been saying there's something wrong with this town for years and no one believes me. At this point I'm tired of being ridiculed and ignored. If you're serious, sit down. If not, go away. I have enough people who think I'm nuts."

"Alright, well thank you for your…" Dean began before Sam shot him a glance.

"We'll join you, if you don't mind." Sam replied.

"Fine by me. But if it turns out you guys are with some paranormal TV show I want credit."

After Nancy brought them coffee Mike began. "Look, I've lived in this town almost all my life and in that time there's a lot of things that have happened that just don't have any sort of logical explanation. I don't know all of it, but I think it has to do something with the Native Americans cursing the land a few centuries back. Since then a lot of weird stuff has happened. Most of it never gets to the papers because the mayor has a stranglehold on the press, as has his family for generations. I know there's something going on, and I have proof. I don't have it with me now, its back at my house. After breakfast I'll show you proof I'm not crazy if you guys want."

After a breakfast of decidedly better than expected food and a tedious conversation about a local species of invasive moth that Mike was passionate about, he excused himself to use the bathroom.

"Sam, there's no way I'm going anywhere with that guy. Not only is he boring, but we know nothing about him, we can't trust him."

"Look Dean, we need all the information we can get. If this guy happens to have some it saves us from having to root through records for an afternoon, if it turns out that he's a nut job I'm pretty sure you can handle an accountant with a comb-over."

"Fine, but I swear to God if this guy tries to kidnap us or make us into a sacrifice to some bat-shit pagan ideology I will not let you hear the end of it."

Dean rolled his eyes as Mike began returning from the bathroom. "So, since I don't want to end up stuck in a car with the world's least interesting man, I'm thinking we drive behind him. What do you think this guy drives anyway? My money's on a used Accord."

"Oh, come on Dean, the guy isn't that bad."

Dean raised an eyebrow as he leaned back.

"Fine, he is that bad. Besides, it's probably a leased Corolla."

"Alright, are you guys in, or what?" Mike said, returning to the table.

"We're in." Sam nodded.

"Okay, follow me. I'm parked out front."

Mike said goodbye to Nancy as he opened the front door, Dean and Sam followed behind.

"Look, not that we don't want to share a ride, but we drove here and don't want to have to come back for it…" Dean began before he stopped, flabbergasted. Mike was unlocking a 1967 Camaro. "That's yours?"

"Yeah, used to be my old man's before he decided to get a new toy… She's pretty nice. SS/RS with a 396, all numbers matching. Sadly not original, but pretty close, interior needed work." He paused, smiling. "Look, I might not be as exciting as you two but I'm not exactly a bore."

Dean slouched, Sam rubbed his neck.

"I have pretty good hearing. And I'm not an accountant, I teach high school chemistry."

"Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Dean-was it-its fine. I'm used to being considered a loser. My students think I'm boring and my neighbors think I'm paranoid because I'm into horror and sci-fi and I tell them that the town is cursed. Next time, just remember to get to know people a little before you judge them."

Mike pulled out a pair of sunglasses. "Well, come on."


	2. A House in the Hills

**Chapter 2: A House in the Hills**

After a short drive out of the main street the town became significantly hillier. The road snaked along through fields and trees until it crested over a large valley.

"Suburbia ahead." Sam dryly quipped, glancing at the large sign announcing "New Phase This Summer" for some neighborhood he couldn't be bothered to read. The road followed the edge of the valley for a short portion before opening up into a large suburban neighborhood. What looked to be well over a hundred two-story homes were arranged in neat rows and cul-de-sacs below them. A sea of beige and tan vinyl glistened in the late afternoon sun.

After a series of left turns through the maze of conformity, Mike eventually pulled the Camaro into the driveway of a brick colonial with blue shutters. He opened the garage door and parked the car inside. Dean parked curbside.

"Nice car! What is that, a 68?" A middle aged man called from across the street.

"It's a 67. Close though." Dean opened the door and began to stand up, Sam meanwhile had gotten out and had raised an eyebrow in disbelief as the man waddled over to get a closer look. He was as stereotypical a suburbanite as possible. He wore a yellow polo shirt, navy cargo shorts, and a pair of socks with sandals. He also appeared sunburnt, but didn't seem to mind.

"She is a beaut!" He looked up to Mike, "I don't know where you all find each other, but I swear every one of your friends must have a classic."

"Well, in this case they're my cousins, so I guess good taste is genetic."

The man laughed as Mike led Dean and Sam inside. "I hope you guys don't mind my lying, I just figure it would be easier to pass you off as family than have someone else see through your badges." Mike paused smirking, "If you guys want to wait down here I have my stuff upstairs, I'll bring some of it down. Feel free to grab a drink from the fridge-but leave the Pediasure- Avery hates the stuff but he has to drink it."

Mike gestured toward the kitchen, then walked up the staircase from the foyer, leaving Dean and Sam to explore the house. Dean immediately went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Behind the apple juice and Pediasure he found a few beers, scratch that, a few light beers. Well, it was better than nothing. He found a bottle opener attached to the side of the fridge and opened up a bottle. It was flat, but it certainly wasn't the worst beer he'd drank in the last month. That dubious honor went to a skunked out bottle he mistakenly left in the trunk for a few too many hot days.

Sam decided to try to make himself comfortable in the living room. It was at the front of the house and appeared to be more of a playroom than a living room, in all honesty. There were legos, hot wheels, and toy trains scattered throughout the room. The coffee table was covered in crayons and construction paper. Clearly there was at least one kid in the family. A photograph above the fireplace confirmed his suspicion, there was a family portrait with Mike and two boys-one he guessed was Avery. On the wall next to it was a family tree.

Dean came in a minute later holding a few beers. "Want one? They're light beers, but I guess it's better than nothing." Sam shrugged and took a beer. "Could you ever imagine living like this? I mean, the guy seems happy but I don't think I could ever handle the monotony of this…" Dean gestured out the window as the same neighbor from earlier stood taking pictures on his phone of the Impala.

Sam didn't seem to be paying much attention; instead he looked at the family tree. For some reason one of the names sounded familiar. How the hell did he know a Dave Campbell? Before he could ask Dean Mike came into the room carrying a stack of notebooks.

"This is everything I've got. Most of it is mine, but some is adapted from the stuff my dad wrote when he still lived around here. We're pretty sure the thing in the woods is a wendigo, but it's not exactly easy to get someone to hunt one of those things… they have a reputation of being tricky to put down." Mike sat down in an easy chair, brushing off some of the crayons first. "You guys are hunters, right?"

"How did you know that?" Sam asked, nervously eyeing Dean.

"Well, for one thing you didn't think I was crazy-and neither of you seem nuts either. Plus my family's been working with them for a long time. My dad settled down here because he knew there was plenty of work to keep busy without having to leave home. For some reason the area around here is a hotbed for the supernatural. I'm pretty sure that the Native Americans jinxed the land somehow, but there isn't enough evidence to support my guess."

Mike glanced at Sam and Dean, reading that they didn't entirely trust him. "Let me guess, you want to make sure I'm not possessed and not just screwing with you before I decide to pin you to the wall and make like Ed Gein." He sighed, opening his arms out into a t-pose."Go ahead, spritz me."

"If you insist." Dean pulled out a flask from his jacket pocket and splashed Mike in the face. He simply blinked and began wiping off his glasses.

"And as for the silver, my wedding band is silver." He held up a hand with a wedding ring on it. "Now, if you trust I'm not a shapeshifter or demon, may I continue?"

"Sorry, just had to be thorough." Dean grinned, awkwardly.

"Yes, I suppose. Anyway, my father worked a day job at the plant in town and at night he hunted. Taught me most of what he knew, but refused to let me hunt. Said it'd ruin me. So I ended up going to school, getting a job, mortgage, my slice of suburban normalcy." He frowned, "Well, it was until everything went sideways. After my parents moved away and Wendy died I was in a dark place. I tried to start hunting on my own but all it got me was beat within an inch of my life. I'm not cut out for it, and because hunters aren't exactly in the yellow pages I wasn't able to get any help to take care of the stuff happening."

"What about all the guys your dad worked with? Surely they would've been willing to help." Sam asked, turning from the family tree to face Mike.

"If they were alive, maybe. Last time I checked all but one of them was dead, and the one alive was in a super-max because he got caught on camera killing a werewolf who'd just been turned."

Mike flipped to a list of hunters in the back of an old maroon notebook and held it out for Sam and Dean to see. All but one were crossed off.

Dean looked at the list, some of the names were familiar, others totally foreign. At the bottom of the list was a single name under the header, "In Case of Emergency", J. Winchester.


	3. Reunion

**Chapter 3: Reunion**

"Wait, your dad knew this guy?" Dean picked up the notebook and pointed to the name at the bottom.

"Yeah, of course. John was a legend. I only met him a few times, but I still remember what he was like. Dad didn't like that he used to drag his kids all over with him, but he was an effective hunter. Usually when they teamed up he'd dump his kids with my mom and they'd go off together to hunt. John was a good guy, but my dad wasn't a huge fan of all the decisions his cousin made."

Dean choked on his beer, "Wait, John Winchester was your dad's cousin?"

"Yeah, why do you know what happened to him? Apparently he went missing a few years ago and none of the hunters around here know what happened to him. Said his kids were still hunting, but no one knew how to reach them. Something about them being vessels-didn't really make sense to me, none of my research ever mentioned anything like that."

"We're his kids." Sam pointed at Dean and himself, "We're Sam and Dean Winchester."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments as everyone processed what had happened.

"So, I suppose I should catch you up on what's happened with your distant relatives, just to make sure you're aware of how amazing it is that you're still alive." Dean said, breaking the silence. He went on to explain the Winchester family curse and how he and Sam had narrowly avoided death-and had actually died and returned-multiple times. Mike seemed receptive enough, frequently asking questions about some of the more ridiculous aspects of their journey and making notes in a blank journal.

"Well, that's a lot to process. How about you guys spend the night and we figure out the hunt tomorrow. I'm sure the boys would love to meet their uncles, if you'd be up for it."

Sam looked at Dean, who shrugged, "Sure. We'd love to."

Mike left to walk down the block and pick up Avery and Alvin from a "play-date" a few minutes later, leaving Dean and Sam sitting alone in the living room.

"Dean, we need to leave." Sam turned to him as soon as the front door clicked shut.

"What, why? The guy seems nice enough-a bit of a dork, but he knows his stuff. I mean, look at these journals. He came up with a ranking system on how dangerous shit is and how experienced you should be before going up against it."

"No, not that. It just seems like every time we meet anyone we're related to they end up as collateral damage within a week. Mike seems happy enough-and he's got kids. I don't want his blood on our hands if he ends up biting it on a hunt with us."

"He's not going to go on the hunt, remember, the guy said he just does research. And besides, we owe it to him to at least try to connect. Apparently he remembers us from all those years ago."

"Fine. But he is not going anywhere near wherever this thing is holed up."

As Sam finished Mike opened the front door. He was carrying an exhausted looking tyke with an older boy walking along in front of him.

"Alvin, Avery, these are my cousins-Sam and Dean." Mike stooped over to put down the smaller boy. He had curly, dark hair and dark green eyes. He rubbed them for a minute before looking up at the tall strangers.

"Hello Sam. Hello Dean." He yawned.

"Avery, say hello." Mike nudged forward the older boy, who up to that point was clinging to his father's leg.

"Hi." He bashfully waved and looked down at his sneakers, rubbing the Velcro on his left foot with the bottom of his right sneaker.

"Sorry, Avery's a bit shy. Give him time and he'll be your best friend." Mike smiled. "Alright Vinnie, time for a nap before dinner-Mrs. Dorchester said you didn't want one earlier and I know you need one."

The three year old pouted, but didn't resist as Mike picked him back up and slung him over his shoulder.

"Avery if you want you can show Sam and Dean some of your racecars. I'm sure Dean would like to see them-he's a car guy like Dad."

Avery stopped looking at his feet and glanced up at Dean. He blinked, his brown eyes quickly darting up and back down as he spoke. "Do ya want to see my cars?"

Dean smiled, "Sure, bud. Where are they?"

After Mike had gotten Alvin settled he started on dinner. Avery was surprisingly talkative once he opened up. Apparently his father had instilled early on a love of classic cars, with most of his toys being copies of his favorites.

"And this one is an Edsel. I think it's a Corsair, but I don't know how to read the bottom to check what it says. You can tell it's a '58 because of the front. It has a horse collar grill." Avery pointed at the front of the car.

Dean had sat cross legged on the floor to watch the six year old talk, smiling. Sam thought Dean was basically just an oversized child, and watched from across the room as the two talked about the different cars. He decided not to try to insert himself into the moment-Dean loved talking about cars, even if it was just with a little kid.

Dinner was ready around six, and the extended family all sat around a picnic table on the back patio. The yard was as neat and ordinary as the house. A play set stood in the far corner, with a small tree nearby. A wooden fence surrounded the yard, but it was easy to hear the other sounds of a suburban evening. A symphony of lawnmowers, barking dogs, and children playing in the summer breeze filled the air as Mike held out his hands for his two boys and bowed his head. Sam and Dean followed suit.

"Bless us oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty of Christ thy Lord, Amen." He nodded his head, then looked up. "Alright, let's dig in!"

It had been a long time since Sam and Dean had said grace. After meeting Castiel and all the bullshit with Lucifer, then everything else after that, it seemed refreshing, the naiveté of a simple dinner prayer.

"Uncle Sam what do you and Uncle Dean do?" Avery said, looking up from his sliced hotdog and French fries.

"Uh… we're traveling salesmen." Sam awkwardly replied, not wanting to have to explain what a hunter was to a six year old.

"Yeah, we go door to door making sure people get what they need." Dean added.

"You don't need to make a cover story guys. They know about hunting." Mike commented before taking a bite of his burger.

"You guys are hunters? That's awesome!" Alvin piped up from his booster.

Dean raised an eyebrow, surprised that Mike had decided to tell his children about hunting and the supernatural. "Yeah, Sam and I have been doing it all our lives. Our dad used to hunt with us when we were kids and it just kind of became our thing."

"I wish we could go on a hunt. All we ever do is learn about monsters, never see them…" Avery huffed.

"No you don't. Believe me." Sam cautioned, "Hunting is very dangerous. There's a good chance something bad could happen to you. Dean and I are lucky to be alive with all the things we've fought."

"Yeah, I guess…" The boy sullenly replied, looking at the checked table cloth.

"Besides, your dad seems to be working hard to keep both of you safe here. If I were you I'd just be happy to get to learn about all the different monsters, not many people get to know all that cool stuff." Dean added, earning a nod of approval from Sam.

Later that evening, after Alvin and Avery were in bed, Sam, Dean, and Mike decided to relax a bit.

"So, why'd you decide to stay in it? Continue even researching into the supernatural? I mean, you're living the American dream: house in the 'burbs, two kids… I mean, it certainly doesn't look like a hunter's life." Dean asked, nursing his second drink from the mini-bar in the corner of the den.

"To be honest, it's all I know. I never went on hunts but the lore always mystified me. Even as a kid I wanted to learn as much as I could about the stuff, maybe to try to figure out how to fix it all… I guess now the main thing is trying to keep my kids safe and make sure they're informed about the stuff that goes bump in the night. Eventually I want to compile all these notes into some sort of book, but for the time being I just keep adding and revising."

"I guess that makes sense, keeping your kids in on it helps them from becoming victims. Plus when it comes to safety there's nowhere much safer than tract housing." Dean made a mock gesture of elegance.

"Especially when you have the builder makes some modifications prior to moving in." Mike smiled.

"Like what?" Sam looked up from the notebooks of research he'd been pouring over.

"Where to begin? The whole house is surrounded by a PVC pipe completely stuffed full of salt. All the doors and windows have devil's traps under them-painted in clear acrylic so no one sees. Walls are lined with iron sheeting under the drywall-that was expensive. And the sprinkler system is filled with holy water, courtesy of an industrial sized tank in the basement that I have a priest come once a month to bless-he thinks I do it to get a greener lawn. Which to his credit, it does help, but the main thing is my industrial sized pesticide sprayer. Baby holds twenty gallons!"

"That's pretty thorough…" Sam stated, surprised at the level of planning.

"Well, after what happened to Wendy I have to be."

"Who's Wendy? You mentioned her earlier." Sam tilted his head and sat back from being hunched over the pile of notebooks.

"Wendy is-was-my wife." Mike rubbed his neck. "I don't know what exactly got her-all I know is that it should have been me. Something was coming after me, apparently looking for vengeance of some kind, and Wendy was caught in the crossfire. I've looked into her death a thousand times and I don't know what it was. It wasn't a demon, or ghost, or anything else I could even think of-all I know is that one minute she was in bed next to me, the next she was jumping out of the second story window onto the driveway below. She wasn't suicidal, something came over her and forced her to do it. I never told her about my life and it was then I swore I would protect my kids and keep them from her fate."

"I'm sorry. We know what it's like to lose someone, it's never easy." Sam thought a minute about Jess and how Dean had to give up his life with Ben and Lisa.

"Thanks. I'm sorry to bring down the room, it was two years ago, at this point I figure I should start to try and move on." He coughed. "Anyway, I'm ready to turn in, I'll show you guys the guest room upstairs."

Mike led Sam and Dean upstairs to the guest bedroom. The room appeared to match the décor of the rest of the house, with a bright floral print on the walls and bedspread, and dark wooden furniture. It was a small room with an attached bath, likely intended as second master bedroom. There was a pair of single beds with a dresser between them on the far wall and a desk with a table lamp next to a wardrobe near the door to the bathroom.

"I know it isn't much, but I imagine with you guys on the road all the time you've probably had to deal with worse. In any case, if you guys need anything I'm in the next room. Feel free to wake me up if you need anything." Mike nodded to signify goodnight, then walked next door to his bedroom.

"So this is what it's like to have relatives. I've got to say, so far I like it." Dean commented, flopping onto the left mattress.

"Well don't get used to it. For his safety I don't intend on sticking around longer than we have to."

"Come on Sammy, don't get like that. Nothing's going to happen to this guy. I'm going to make sure of that."

"I know, let's just get some sleep. I don't exactly love the idea of facing another wendigo-the first time wasn't exactly our finest hour…"


	4. Into the Woods We Go

**Chapter 4: Into the Woods We Go**

"Coventry Woods used to be a summer camp back in the day, Camp Fernbrook. Started out as a camp for a bunch of Methodist churches, then it went independent and became a public summer camp in the 1960s. After defaulting on the payments it went up for auction before being bought by the Hill School-a rich kid college prep school across the river. They owned it until the 1990s, then suddenly decided they wanted nothing to do with it and donated the land to the township as a tax write-off. Township kept it gated off until the Parks and Rec board decided it was time to expand and realized they already had land. So the township demolished a few old cabins, put in a parking lot, and bam! Coventry Woods was a thing." Mike was driving Sam and Dean to the woods where he suspected the wendigo lived. He was nearly shouting over the air ripping past the car as he sped through the country lanes toward their destination. "There's a good reason no sane person ever wanted to build out here, land's toxic-literally. Groundwater's been contaminated for decades, something to do with mining in the area back in the 1920s. Apparently there's one uncontaminated spring in the dead center of the park, and that's where the camp used to get their water from-and where I suspect the wendigo goes for water."

Mike pulled through a set of stone pillars which bore a wooden sign, "Welcome to Coventry Woods". He parked his car in the gravel parking lot before getting out, being shortly followed by Sam and Dean. The park appeared near enough to being normal. A small field with a basketball hoop sat beyond a bridge which crossed a wide creek. The woods started shortly afterward, with part of a lodge building poking out from the edge.

"That's the lodge where Nancy's having her party in a few days. Given everything that happened in this place I guarantee there'd be at least one fatality by the end of the night." Mike paused for a moment before pulling out a thick stack of papers printed off the county missing person website. "This thing has been hunting in the area since at least the 1950s, with a bunch of kids going missing from the camp year after year. It got to the point that it was almost normal to expect at least one kid to vanish each summer. Then in '74 this thing goes nuts. In one week half the camp-like twenty campers and counselors-go missing. Police come in and find nothing. At that point the place closes for a few years, then reopens as a retreat for a bunch of rich kids during the summer months. That doesn't go well after three boys go missing on a hike and the fourth one comes back bloody and bruised, claiming that a monster got his friends. So the camp shuts down and the land eventually ends up with the township, who decides despite the dozens of missing people, it would be a good idea to make it a public park and rent out the lodge for parties. This year is the first time the land's been open to the public in close to a decade. I know this thing is hungry and probably pissed off that no one's been around. I suggest you guys get it before it decides to get desperate and start hunting in one of the surrounding neighborhoods." Mike solemnly looked at the two. "Are you sure you'll be alright, just the two of you? I could at least wait here with the car if you wanted."

"No, once we get this thing we'll call you to pick us up. If something goes south we want you as far away as possible. You have a family to take care of, we'll manage this on our own." Dean sternly looked at Mike.

"Alright. Don't forget your gear, and I also packed you guys some food-I don't know how long it'll take so I made you guys lunches and dinners. If it goes south and you need a ride, call me. Use the codeword so I know it's you-these bastards are too good at mimicking voices otherwise." Mike handed Sam and Dean two large backpacks.

Sam unzipped his to check everything, then satisfied, zipped it back up. "Don't worry, we will. Stay safe Mike."

"You're telling me to stay safe? You do realize you're the one about to go up against a wendigo, right? I'll be back when you call. Good luck guys." Mike got back in the car and waved as he pulled back onto the road.

After his car pulled away Sam pulled out a large map of the park he had gotten off the official website as well as satellite images of the area with probable sighting marked. "Okay, so it looks like we should start off on the red trail then branch off to the double yellow in order to get to the old spring house. Since this thing needs clean water it'll have to show up there eventually. We just stake it out while in Anasazi ring and when it shows up we shoot it with a flare gun."

"Really, is that all?" Dean muttered, hoisting on his pack.

"Well, compared to all the other nightmares we've had to take on I think this should be a nice break. And we know the flare gun works, its how we got the last one."

"Yeah Sammy, the flare gun worked great-right after we didn't almost die the last time we fought one of these things."

"I remember-but still, compared to Lucifer, this shouldn't be too bad."

Sam folded the map up and stuck it in his jacket pocket, then looked around at the park. "Come on, we've got a hike ahead of us."

Six miles of uphill rocky trails later the pair arrived at the old spring house. The small stone building was far from the trail, up a small unmarked path barely visible through the dense undergrowth. The woods were completely silent, without a single chirping bird or animal rustling about. Sam quickly staked out a spot next to the spring house where he could see the broken-in basement door that led to the well. He and Dean drew the Anasazi ring, then covered themselves with undergrowth to hide from the wendigo when it would arrive.

It had been eight hours and the sun was beginning to set. The wendigo hadn't yet shown up and Dean had to pee like a madman. "Sam, where is this thing? I have to piss again and I've run out of Gatorade bottles."

Sam frowned in disgust. "Okay, first, that's disgusting. Second, you're a big boy, you can go without telling me. And third, if you're really that desperate pour one out-away from me-and reuse it. No leaving the circle until we see this thing."

"Ugh, fine." Dean crouched over to get a bottle when his blood ran cold.

"Uh, Sammy?"

"I am not interested in how long it takes. For God's sakes, if you really want to see if you can break your record time yourself!" Sam angrily whispered, intentionally averting his eyes from Dean's direction. He remembered the last time Dean had set a record, triumphantly holding up a stopwatch as he exited a gas station bathroom in Fresno- one minute and sixteen seconds. He shuddered at the fact that he remembered that number so well.

"Sam… it's here. And I'm pretty sure it knows we are." Dean grabbed Sam's arm and turned him around. The wendigo was standing about twenty feet outside of their ring, staring at them. Its dark eyes pierced through the night air and it was clear that if not for the circle the two would have already long been dead.

"Well. Looks like I have company." The creature spoke, using what sounded like the voice of a small child. "And it looks like you know about Anasazi symbols."

Sam reached slowly into his bag to grab a flare gun before the monster disappeared back into the thick undergrowth. Its voice seemed to come from all sides as it spoke.

"It's been a while since I had something to eat. Even longer since I had hunter." The voice morphed into a wheeze before shifting to a man with a twangy accent, "But that doesn't matter much. You have to leave that circle sometime. In fact, I believe I feel rain on the wind. Once that happens… well, your circle won't do much good if it's been washed away."

A rock suddenly flew through the air and hit Dean in the back. He coughed, the wind knocked out of him.

"I could easily kill you now, but why bother? I'm always up for a game."

"You son of a bitch! Show yourself and we'll kick your ass!" Dean angrily shouted, rubbing his tender back as he got up from all fours.

"I'd rather not. But feel free to panic in your last few minutes. It makes the meat test better."


	5. Desperation

**Chapter 5: Desperation**

Sam checked the forecast app on his phone. It said that rain was 90% likely in the next hour. He leaned over to whisper in Dean's ear, "So now what the hell are we going to do? This thing's a lot brighter than the last one and we don't exactly have the upper hand."

"I don't know. We know it hates fire, right? Maybe we can do something with that?"

"We have a couple of flares and lighter fluid, but with the rain coming it won't last long enough to keep it at bay until morning when we could at least have a decent shot at hitting it."

"I have an idea." Dean pulled out his phone and started texting.

"No, we said we wouldn't get him involved." Sam went to grab the phone, but Dean slapped his hand away.

"Do you have a better idea? This thing is watching us, waiting for the ring to wash away and given that it's bound to start pouring any time now, we need to."

Sam sighed, relenting that in this case he didn't have an idea, and hoped that Mike would make it in time.

Back at home Mike was busy cleaning up the living room when his phone buzzed. It was a text from Dean:

Mike, this is Dean. Popcorn, or whatever the hell that codeword was. We're in deep shit with the wendigo. We need you to start a forest fire.

Mike stared at the text for a minute before rubbing his eyes to make sure he had read it correctly. A forest fire? Were they insane? How could he possibly do that?

He quickly texted back:

Okay, how am I supposed to do that? Also, don't get me wrong, I want to help, but isn't that like, SUPER illegal?

A few seconds later Dean replied:

Remember that twenty gallon tank of pesticides? They'd better be flammable. And yes. Ninety percent of hunting is doing things that are.

A few minutes later Mike had the tank loaded in his car and his kids next door with the Johnsons-I have a family emergency, can you watch the boys?-he prayed he could do this. After speeding through every stop sign on the way he pulled into the park, quickly unloading the tank onto its carrying cart. At home he had attached a lighter to the nozzle, so when he sprayed it ignited the pesticide and acted as a flamethrower. He dragged it to the woods edge and started to spray, following Dean's direction to make a line along the trail so that the beast would be forced away from them and they might have a chance to make it out running. Hopefully it would catch enough under growth to last the storm's beginning. Mike doubted he could get to Sam and Dean and back before it started to rain.

"Rain should be here any minute. Last chance you bastard! Show yourself and die with dignity!" Dean shouted, nervously eyeing the darkening sky.

"Dean, I really don't think antagonizing this thing is going to help us. If the rain gets here before Mike I really don't want something both pissed off and having razor sharp claws and teeth to attack me."

"Ugh, don't say that."

"What?"

"You know what. I haven't gone in hours."

"Wait, you're still holding it from earlier? That was like, half an hour ago."

"Well I don't want to go if that thing's watching." Dean almost blushed, but instead simply scowled angrily at how his bladder felt like an overfilled water balloon.

"Wait, you're afraid of a wendigo seeing your…"

"Shut up! Not all of us want monsters to see our, y'know." Dean angrily remarked, referring to Sam having slept with both a demon and a werewolf on separate occasions.

Sam rolled his eyes and felt a small drop on his forehead. The rain was here.

Mike had just finished climbing the red trail when he branched off to the double yellow. The fire was spreading rapidly, so much so that Mike was concerned that he might be caught in the blaze. There was only a mile left until the path that led to the spring house, which meant the wendigo was near. Mike gulped, he had never been hunting before for something this dangerous. Hell, this thing was a level 7-he was barely qualified to handle a level 4! He steadied himself and continued to spray, nearing Sam and Dean when he felt the first drop of rain.

The circle was dug into the dirt, and as such began to turn to mud under the torrential downpour. A clap of thunder went off as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky and momentarily revealed the silhouette of the wendigo in a tree looking at the Winchesters.

"We are so boned." Dean held out a flare gun, only to be met with cruel laughter bouncing off the trees in every direction.

"If you really think that puny thing will stop me you must be kidding." The monster leapt down from the tree and approached the ring. It smirked, pointing at a scar along its side. "That is from a cherry bomb. The boy who threw it didn't survive long enough to watch me eat the rest of the friends he was protecting." It gestured, opening its arms wide. "Go ahead. Try me."

"Alright, I will." Mike shouted, shooting the flaming pesticides at the monster's face and back.

It shrieked in pain before quickly turning towards Mike, whose eyes suddenly widened to the size of dinner plates.

"No!" Sam shouted as he shot a road flare at the creature's head, temporarily blinding it and causing it to only tear at Mike's arm instead of his face. Mike jammed the nozzle of the sprayer into the wendigo's face and unleashed a cloud of fire into its mouth. The fire burned through the monster's flesh and its body collapsed onto the ground, the smell of its putrid flesh burning filling the air. After realizing he was going to live, Mike's face relaxed for a moment before he bent over to vomit.

After emptying the contents of his stomach out of fear Mike weakly wiped off his mouth before Dean came over and lifted him off the ground with a quick bear hug before quickly setting him back down.

"No chick flick moments, but you just saved our asses. You rock, dude."

"Thanks. But I think we might have another problem beyond the wendigo… the pesticides I use aren't water soluble, and I kind of sprayed a line heading straight for us." Mike sheepishly grinned, pointing at the fire still raging despite the heavy rain.

After ditching the sprayer and running like hell through the woods they made it back to the edge of the park, where the lodge had already caught fire and the field was beginning to smolder.

"Thank God the car's okay." Mike looked over to the parking lot as the three crossed the footbridge leading out of the park.

"I think we should probably call the fire department, then get you to a hospital." Sam gestured at Mike's gashed arm. It had already bled a good bit over his shirt and appeared to not want to stop any time soon.

"Sorry, with the adrenaline I really haven't felt anything after I threw up back there. But, I think that would be a good idea."

One week later and Mike's arm was mostly back to normal. It had taken thirty three stitches to close off the wound from the "feral dog", but aside from that everyone was relatively unharmed.

Sam and Dean had decided to stay a bit to make sure Mike recovered, and in the process had managed to quickly become the favorite "uncles" to Alvin and Avery.

"You sure you aren't mad that you missed your car show?" Sam snarked, lugging his bag to the back of the Impala.

"Baby's still running alright for now, and besides, there's always next year." Dean shrugged loading his bag alongside Sam's.

"Hey, before you guys go, I wanted to thank you and give you this!" Mike shouted, briskly walking toward the car, Avery and Alvin tailing behind. He held out an old Polaroid picture, dated 6/17/85. It was a picture of Mike when he was young along with his mother sitting at a backyard barbecue. On the other side of the table were Sam and Dean. "I was looking for this all over, it's a picture of us when we were little. I never had any other cousins, so it was cool to meet you guys-even if you were, like, six years younger than me."

Sam held the photo carefully, "Thanks, but are you sure you want to give this to us? I mean, it must mean a lot to you to have held onto it this long."

"Look, I have a digital copy from scanning all my pictures a few years back. Take it. Something to remember me by." He smiled. "Look, I know you guys are on a different path than I am-even if we are all tied together in this crazy world of the paranormal. But if you ever need a break or want to catch up, just text or call. My place is always open to you guys."

"Thanks. We might take you up on that." Dean smiled.

"Oh, and also, if you guys are looking for a new hunt I have a guy who I email over in Erie who's been having some weird stuff happening. I can forward them to you if you want."

"Sure. Take care, cous." Sam shook Mike's hand before Mike pulled him in for a hug, patting him on the back.

"You saved my life with that flare gun. I deserve a pass on the no chick-flick moments for that."

Sam rolled his eyes, good naturedly.

"See you, Mike." Dean shook his hand before opening the door to the car.

"Goodbye Uncle Sam, Uncle Dean." Avery hugged them both, barely reaching Dean's waist.

Mike picked up Alvin to have him at eye level to say goodbye. He instead decided to promptly kiss Dean on the forehead. After blinking twice, Dean smiled and rubbed his hair. Sam also reluctantly received a kiss before getting in the Impala.

As Dean pulled away from the curb Mike, Avery, and Alvin waved goodbye; fading into specks as the Impala drove further away down the suburban street back to the highway that would lead them to their next hunt.


End file.
